


Where All It Ever Does Is Rain

by dreamlittleyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Dreams, F/M, Nightmares, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John dreams of Mary.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Where All It Ever Does Is Rain

When he dreams of her there's blood everywhere.

It soaks into his boots, slips along his skin, rains from the sky. Even the trees in the distance echo a dark, angry crimson along the horizon. Splotchy and bitter.

"Mary," he says, even though he can't see her through all that red.

"John," she whispers, and her voice is cool and calming. Familiar. Her hand is tiny in his, and suddenly she's _there_. There in front of him, when a second ago all he could see was the emptiness of death.

"Mary," he says again, and his eyes sting with tears—or maybe with the blood that's dripping down his face and catching in his eyelashes.

"Dance with me," she murmurs, her face clean and bright, impossibly clear in the red storm that surrounds them. Even her white dress is clean.

He doesn't want to dance, but his feet are moving anyway. Drawing her close and swaying with an imagined rhythm, burying his face in her soft, clean hair and cursing that he can't touch her without getting the blood everywhere.

"It's okay," she says, her voice a soft whisper of reassurance as her lips move against the shell of his ear. "It's okay, baby. I've got you." When she kisses him it tastes like memories.

He opens his eyes to a gray, dreary day, and the intermittent staccato of rain drizzling along the windows. He can smell bacon cooking, hear the rustling in the kitchen that says his boys are long since up.

His expression feels sour as he hauls himself out of his room and down the hall.

Sam is too busy scribbling notes from a thick schoolbook to notice something is wrong. When Dean meets his eyes, he hands John a cup of coffee and carefully doesn't ask.


End file.
